“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask and he will tell you the truth” –Oscar Wilde
Why do superheroes wear masks? The answer is simple, to protect their loved ones. Or at least to the distant observer that is the answer. Because if that is all it took to protect the people you loved then everyone would be wearing a mask. So what is the real reason for the mask? Selfishness. Superheroes are very selfish because they don’t want anyone to know their real identity. They create an alter ego to become famous and deal with worldly matters, while they continue to live their regular lives. If they took the full responsibility without the mask their life would be a mess. Masks in general are worn for selfish purposes. People conceal their identity because they do not want to be found. If no one knows who you are then they cannot harm you, and that is precisely why superheroes are idolized.
If you could live two wildly different lives the possibilities would be endless. The experience would be as close as you could get to living in parallel universes. Superheroes are able to follow their natural human instinct of being selfish and uphold society’s ideals. Their powers are the tools that allow them to live as they wish. This freedom over life’s constraints is the real power that common people are envious of.
“Mr. Staccato, do you really think this is an appropriate paper for the topic of common ideal of modern society?” Mr. Mills asked while attempting to stare me down.
Honestly, the guy didn’t have much presence when he was a good six inches shorter than me. Not to say that he wasn’t tall to most students, but it’s just that I was a little taller than most people. Okay, to be exact I stand at 6’2” but it’s not like I try to make a point of that, really I tried to be intimidated by Mr. Mills. Of course this all went away when I gave my response.
“That’s just the beginning to the paper Mr. Mills, you haven’t gotten to the best part,” I argued in my defense.
“Vincent!” he thundered, “There is no best part to this paper. The best part is at the end when there is nothing to read.”
He was exactly right; the best part was at the end, because that was where I made a summary of my entire paper and logically made my point. However much I wanted to say this I didn’t, because I felt a little sorry for him. It’s not like he was dealing with the average student here, I’d rate myself over most of the people in the class.
“Now, what you’re going to do is redo this paper and turn it in by next Monday,” he ordered.
“Yes sir, I’ll do my best to clarify this paper so the common man can read it,” I said sarcastically.
“Don’t be a smart ass Vincent. We both know the problem with this is that most people would actually be convinced by this,” he said, “If only you put your effort into the right things and let people know who you are.” He sighed and motioned me to leave, “Go on now, I don’t want another one of your papers on the teacher’s lounge declaring the rights of students.”
As I left the classroom I thought about his words, my real self. This paper was as close as I’d ever let people know what I was really like. Masks really are ingenious things; they can hide things in plain sight without anyone noticing the difference. I’m not referring to physical masks, those are outdated and I made that clear in my paper. The real mask is the one I use for my personality. It’s fun, no one will know who I am and when I meet new people I can adopt a new persona to fit the situation. Verbal attacks are rendered useless because nobody knows how to go about insulting me. All they can do is attack a shadow that I’ve left behind in my wake.
Then comes the next problem, the royal court of sociable people who notice me. Holding constant with human history, affiliation with royalty will always bring trouble. Some of them can see through the first layer of disguise and think that I’m lonely. Out of the pity of their hearts, which is really their attempt to gain public adoration, they try to include me in activities. In reality, loneliness is far more distant from me than from them. They’re busy with keeping good relations with everyone and attempting to backstab someone else. Girls will spread gossip and boys will puff up their chests. I get to enjoy this crazy circus show and laugh as I learn the characters’ motives.
So now I’m a cynical self-serving asshole, or at least to common observer. I don’t mind though, because as long as that’s the only visible part then I can hide my real feelings. In truth I might just be looking for someone I can actually talk to. Or maybe someone I can hold onto for comfort.
My thoughts were interrupted when I busted open the door and was greeted with the crisp autumn air outside. Nothing unusual about the weather, except for the fact that along with a light sprinkle it seemed to be raining girls. Well, not really, only in some crack show would it actually be raining girls. I classified that case as being bulldozed over by a girl. As soon as I opened the door I saw a girl in a running outfit gunning it for the door, apparently the very same door I just opened. Out all of the different scenarios that could have happened she let out a frightened scream and jumped straight at me curling herself into a ball in the air as if she was going to break through a window. I managed to raise my arms halfway up to my chest before impact and I was sent flying back a good four or five feet.
“Ugh,” I mumbled in a daze from being knocked back into the building.
“Er, sorry about that,” she said as she got up, “I’ll make it up some other time, but I really have to get something!”
“Wait!” I called out as she dashed away towards the stairs.
Bitterly, I stopped my pursuit and turned to leave. I would’ve liked some compensation for getting knocked flat on my ass. More than that, I was interested in who exactly she was. I wasn’t certain, but for a second right before she jumped I saw that she had a mask like me. However, her skills were lacking because in the heat of the moment she let her mask fall off completely.
I decided that I’d find out who she was later, after all, there were only so many places one could run to in school. Besides, her running and clothes clearly marked her as an athletic type meaning she must have been on a sports team. I made a mental note to record all of these facts when I got home.
The next day I committed myself to sitting in the back row of my classes to see if she was in any of them. A tall girl around 5’10” with dark hair that fell approximately five inches below her shoulders. Possibly part Asian ranging from one eighth to one half. Most likely seen in athletic wear or carrying an additional sports bag. The addition of the sports bag would no doubt incur a trip to the locker creating a window for conversation, I thought to myself as I took my seat. If she was smart enough to mask her personality in high school then surely she would be in upper level classes, I reasoned. Unfortunately classes that posed more than a minimal intellectual challenge were in the afternoon.
In light of this realization, I decided that first period chemistry would be spent taking a nap. The regurgitated sludge of subject high school curriculum transformed sciences into barely deserved a thought. Photographic memory is really quite useful when you don’t want to do anything in school. Or in my case, it was useful for applying my brain on more interesting things, such as tracking down the girl that hit me.
As the day continued I watched the door again and again in every class. By fourth period I was a little exasperated and let out a sigh as I took my seat. Watching the door, I counted the groups of people entering: three, two, five, four, one.
“Found you,” I muttered under my breath as I kept my eyes locked on her.
The social system for high school is quite simple. People in pairs are either a couple, best friends or acquaintances lumped together by the same class. Any number of people from three to five is an intentional group formed for simple social interaction. Typically the group will meet outside of school and the bond between group members will grow at almost the same rate. From six people and on I classify the group as a hierarchy. There is a leader with the most popularity, followed by their inner circle and finally an outer circle. The larger the group is, the more layers the outer circle will be divided into, but the inner circle usually stays the same. However, a group will always function in the same way, which is why the final category, individuals, is the most interesting.
Individually, people can change at any moment to whatever they feel like. When people are in a private place alone they can do whatever they want. If they want to sing, they can sing. If they want to dance, they can dance. To find out the truth behind somebody’s personality is to enter their private realm and observe them without being seen. As soon as somebody realizes they’re being watched their behavior immediately changes.
I waited for the names to be called off on the attendance list so I could put a name to her face. At the same time I wondered if she also changed her voice to match her disguised personality.
“Vincent Staccato,” Ms. Revani called out.
“Here,” I said, quickly snapping myself out of my thoughts.
“Emma Steinhart,” she called again.
The girl at the front quietly raised her hand and responded, “Here,” in a crystal clear voice that pierced the room.
I was completely shocked at her voice, not only was it the polar opposite of the awkward, fuzzy yell that I heard, but this voice sounded as if she was ready to kill somebody that stayed in her way for too long. I made a second mental note to myself that I should pay more attention to the people in class instead of falling asleep. Emma wasn’t a fitting name for such a cold voice so I decided I would refer to her in my notes by a code name, Ice Queen .
Throughout class she stayed fairly silent, only responding when a question was directed at her. Attempts to have a conversation were conducted by Michael Blauss, Ara Ren, and Kelly Yang, all of which were her group members. The longest conversation held was by Kelly, clocking at one minute and fifty six seconds. However, the person that had the highest frequency of quasi conversations was Michael. In the span of twenty minutes he was shut down thirteen times . I never believed that a person could be so dense and persistent. Although the fact that he was the lacrosse captain and wasn’t getting what he wanted may have been a factor. In any case, fourth period ended and I prepared myself to follow her during lunch break.
For a moment I had to pause and think to myself for a little bit. Was I being creepy ? Argument, if the CIA and NSA weren’t creepy then there wouldn’t be any data collection to improve the situation. Conclusion, my actions were merely observational and as long as I did not come in contact with the subject then everything was valid.
I maintained a distance of fifteen feet only speeding up when she turned around corners. We arrived at her locker on the second floor, which to my dismay, had nothing particularly interesting inside from what I saw. My prediction about her sports bag remained true when I saw her rearrange a small drawstring bag in her locker. After ten minutes of tying my shoelaces and pretending to walk the other direction it was clear that the only thing she intended to do was sit and eat her sandwich.
Lantern Dragon Works 